


color theory.

by padlockandpastels



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: CHANDLMARA !!, Character Death, Closeted Character, Color Blind Soulmate AU, F/F, Fuck Kurt Kelly, Non Canon events, Repressed love, Soulmate AU, kurt & mac date but. it's not shippy, soulmate AU!!, this takes place in the 80’s!!!, yes I know the timeline is weird I don’t care live with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padlockandpastels/pseuds/padlockandpastels
Summary: [AU where you're born seeing color, but if your soulmate passes away your world turns black and white.]McNamara had thought Kurt Kelly was her soulmate for years, that was, until Heather Chandler died.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather McNamara, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 108





	color theory.

Yellow had always been the most vibrant.

Heather McNamara had always known that ever since she could remember. The small blonde had used to tumble around the garden, scooping up daises and sunflowers until her mother had to drag her away.

Of course, she enjoyed the others as well, pinks and oranges & whatnot. Though, yellow had been her favorite.

"Why yellow?" Chandler had asked her one day at the end of seventh grade, nose scrunching up.

"I dunno." Mcnamara had shrugged, palms coming down to smooth out her new sundress—yellow. "It's all sunny. ."

"That's a stupid reason," Chandler stated, placing her lunchbox down on the table before them. Her crimson bracelet jingled as she moved.

Mac blinked, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. The odd bluntness threw her off guard. "Uh, well—I don't think it's stupid—"

"Are colors really that big a deal?" Heather Duke suddenly piped up from beside her. "It's _just_ colors. Why does everyone make such a big deal out of it?"

"Because it's about your soulmate, Heather, god, keep up." The leader of the young clique snipped.

Duke slumped in her seat.

The blonde cast a look of pity towards the girl in green.

"I. .what do you mean?"

"You know—how you and your soulmate both see color? Until one of you. ." Chandler's tone trailed. "You know."

"Uhuh." McNamara nodded along. "My parents told me about that. How do you know who's your soulmate, though?"

"I assume you just like. .can tell?" Duke chimed in hesitantly. "Like my parents, they've been together forever. If they weren't soulmates, I'm sure they would've split a long time ago." She explained with confidence. "When you meet him you'll know."

"Mhm," Chandler agreed, eyes scanning the cafeteria. "Do you wanna know what Courtney told me?"

"Hm?"

"That sometimes, you can have more than one soulmate."

"What?" McNamara's head cocked, gaze full of confusion.

"Not at once, but like—" Chandler shook her head, earrings swaying. "Courtney told me how she'd met this girl at summer camp and she told Courtney how her Mom had passed away when she was a kid, and how her Dad stopped seeing color." Heather began.

The two others nodded along.

"Duh."

"Yeah, but then—a few years later her Dad started dating again and met this girl and he woke up one day and the color was back. They got married and whatever," Chandler ended the vague storytelling session, leaning back in her seat.

"I hope I meet mine soon," a tiny smile poked at the corner of Duke's lips, lazily picking at her salad with her fork. "Do you think maybe I've already met him?"

Chandler snickered. "Yeah, good luck finding your soulmate, Heath'. Sure that'll go well."

Duke cowered, falling silent.

Mac's eyebrows furrowed, attention more sharply turning towards her friend in red.

"Don't talk like that, it's rude. What's wrong?" Mcnamara murmured, reaching for her hand. Chandler let it rest momentarily but quickly pulled it back. McNamara ignored how the feeling made her chest ache.

"Nothing," she scoffed, head-turning towards the side. "Just. .David hasn't invited me to the dance yet and it's on Friday. That's all."

"Oh." A beat passed. That explained the more than usual levels of irritation. "David? The one who plays soccer in our math class." Mac pursed her lips. "I'm sure he will. Anyone would be lucky to go to the dance with you." Heather praised, leaning forward.

Chandler's eyes swept towards her. She seemed to pause, words pausing on her tongue. "I. .you're going with Kurt, right?" She said instead.

"Mhm. Though, if David is a pillowcase and doesn't ask you out, I'll totally ditch him so we can hang out together." McNamara giggled, meeting gazes with Chandler before offering Duke a friendly smile as well.

"Oh, yeah, you know it." Chandler bit back an innocent amused smile and it showed. "Screw boys and soulmates, hm? Friends are everlasting."

—————

Friends were apparently everlasting if senior year was any example.

The trio had slipped their way through the halls of Westerburg High, working their way to a spot on the throne of the social pyramid.

Sherwood, Ohio was a tiny town. Nothing much changed. The same students whizzed in and out those hallways day in and day out. Kindergarten to senior year, McNamara knew Sherwood's student body like the back of her hand.

Small things changed, like how a bluebird named Veronica had joined the clique. Though besides that, it was all the same.

Chandler, Duke, Sawyer, Dunnstock, Kelly—

Kurt Kelly.

_Ah_.

The boy had certainly grown up within the years since that middle school dance. He now stood as the head quarterback, a letterman's jacket on him at all times to prove it. To complete the cliche of the sorts he even had a cheerleader to accompany him.

Cheer captain, to be more specific.

'Kurt Kelly's girlfriend' wasn't necessarily a title McNamara had ever craved, but it was one she technically wore. The duo's relationship was ticking into three years. .if. .you could call their connection that.

It was a flustered mess of on & off, drunk Kurt Kelly calling late at night, parties, and social pressure. Sure. Relationship. Mac guessed, at least. That worked.

It wasn't like there was any other boy she had her eyes on at the moment. .or any boy she'd had an eye on during high school for that matter, so what was the real harm. .? That sounded awful, and frankly, the thought made her stomach twist in understandable guilt. Their relationship seemed as 'stable' as any other at Westerburg. If anything, it helped both of them with appearances.

Heather tried to push her doubts away most of the time. Sherwood—tiny town—once again, you can't run away from much. It was easier to wait it out until graduation...

It was hard at times though, one couldn't lie.

Doubts came up more than they should.

How every time Kurt kissed her Heather made herself kiss him back, fireworks always feeling less than a damp ember.

How every time Kurt pulled her upstairs at a party she felt knots in her stomach—not butterflies.

How maybe every-time Heather Chandler grabbed her hand she felt her heart skip more than Kurt Kelly could even _begin_ to manage—

The rest of the school seemed to view their relationship differently, however. More. .'fairytale ending' than McNamara could ever imagine. It had been after a football game at first. They'd been sitting on the bleachers, Kurt's arm around her shoulders and Mac's pom-poms in her lap when a boy and a girl walked up to them.

It was two people from government, Chelsey & Austin. Some couple that was so lovesick she was decently sure they might collapse if they had to let go of the other's hands. God, she wondered what that felt like.

"I'm so happy you guys found your soulmates so soon!" Chelsey chirped, pushing her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose.

Heather & Kurt sat up a little straighter, confused.

"Huh?"

"Oh! Each other! We just think it's so happy you guys found each other." Austin clarified, giving a nod.

The couple still was quiet.

"How you're soulmates—. .?" Chelsey's tone trailed.

"Oh!" The realization hit the quarterback and cheerleader square in the face, eyes going wide.

"Yeah! Yeah, totally." Kurt answered for her. His grip on her shoulder tightened in a way that simply made her want to pry away. "Y'know, good to figure out that stuff young. Makes it easier along the way." He scoffed. "Right, babe?" He swiveled towards Mac, but her words were lodged in her throat.

"Right." She croaked, avoiding eye contact. "I—um, have to go meet up with Chandler and Duke. See you later," Heather exhaled. The blonde stood up, but a grip on her arm made her feet dig into the concrete.

"Give me a kiss goodbye?" Kurt requested, looking up at the other. Though, it wasn't really a 'request' at all. Heather obliged, giving the quarterback a peck before dashing off the field.

——————

Heather Chandler gave an airy laugh, leaning back against the headrest.

"What do you mean you don't think Kurt is your soulmate, Mac?"

The cheer captain gave a groan from the passenger seat, burying her face in her palms.

"I don't know!" She whined in confession, peeking out from between her fingertips. "I just—I just—I don't know if soulmates are supposed to feel this way! It feels _weird_!"

"Weird?" Chandler teases with a snicker, drumming softly against the wheel as the girls drove down the dimly lit road.

"I'm serious, Chan!"

"Oh, I don't doubt it. I say dump his ass if it, y'know, 'feels weird.'" She retorted.

"I. .maybe." Heather sunk down, seatbelt pressing against her collarbone.

The ride went quiet for a few moments, the buzz of Air Supply ringing over the radio waves. The clique members lulled up to a stoplight where Chandler took a minute to look over at a blonde.

"Well, if Kurt isn't your soulmate, who do you think is?"

McNamara looked over, meeting those infamous blue eyes she'd met a hundred times before. Every time her breathing seemed to stop. Heather bit the inside of her cheek, forcing a shrug.

"I dunno. ." She exhaled. Heather swallowed the lump in her throat, looking out the window at the passing street lamps.

"Chin up, we're heading to a Remington party. You'll get drunk enough in an hour to even worry about this." Chandler said, "and like—remember that think Duke used to say, 'once you meet him you'll know'."

Chandler reached across the consul, picking up the other's freckled hand.

"Once I meet him I'll know."

—————-

The Remington party had been a disaster. Not for her exactly, but as a whole. Veronica had gotten ill halfway through, slurring her words before throwing up onto Chandler's crimson heels.

That. .hadn't gone well, to say the least. While Chandler had shuffled outside after her to blow off some steam, McNamara had retreated home.

The teen had passed out in bed sometime after midnight, dress still on & her heels at her bedside. Thankfully she'd been sober enough to stagger into her bathroom long enough to wipe off her makeup, but that'd been the extent of her fortune. McNamara had attempted to dial Chandler once or twice before sleeping, just to check that she hadn't fully murdered Sawyer in cold blood, but it rang straight to voicemail.

However, the sun-cracked through the blinds before long. Like always, Heather groaned and rolled over, eyes squeezing shut. A headache she should've predicted thumped in her skull, simply making the girl long for sleep even more.

From across the room, there was a soft chirp from her canary.

"Tweety-shut up—" she whined, tone muffled under the sheets.

_Chirp!_

"Tweety!" McNamara groaned, peering up in her half-aware state to chuck a pillow in the direction of the cage. Of course, she didn't hit the cage, the pillow simply tumbling onto the carpet.

Heather huffed, slowly blinking as her exhausted eyes settled on the wallpaper.

Her walls were gray.

An entire four seconds passed before Heather McNamara realized her walls had been sun yellow the night before.

A sound got stuck in her throat at the panicked realization, shooting up in her bed. She was certainly awake then.

"Ah—!" The teen shirked, wide eyes flickering back and forth throughout her bedroom. Pillows—white. Skin—Gray. Curtains—black.

"Fuck, fuck,— _fuck_ -" Heather babbled, scrambling against the bedsheets until she ultimately fell out of bed and onto the carpet. Her bird chirped in concern.

With trembling palms she swayed onto her knees, reaching for her telephone at her bedside.

How, why, _who_?

The phone rang a total of three times before a half-asleep Kurt Kelly eventually answered.

"Eh. .Hea. .Heather? It's like. .eight in the morn—"

"Are you okay?" She blurted out, fingertips digging into the wood of her bedside table.

". .yeah? Why?"

"I—ah-um—I just thought-"

"Mac? What's going on?"

"Nothing! I just-—wanted to make sure you were okay from last night—I'll call you back-" she lied, words going a mile a minute as she hung up the phone. The pit in her gut only grew with every moment.

If not him, **_who_?**

Heather's hands were shaking so bad it took four attempts or her to dial Chandler's phone number correctly.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

" _Hello! This is Daniel Chandler, thank you for calling. We're probably out of the house right now, but please call back late—"_

McNamara cursed under her breath, hanging up and redialing. Chandler always overslept, always had a hangover, it was Sunday morning. There were a dozen valid excuses in her brain, but the worst case was atop her mind.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

Tears stung at the corners of her vision as she began her third attempt.

Voicemail.

Oversleeping,

Hangover,

Sunday morning.

Oversleeping,

Hangover,

Sunday morning.

This was the list of things McNamara had to repeat to herself so she didn't lose her sanity. She'd never been the best driver, but the fact she didn't crash her car on the way to Heather Chandler's house was simply a miracle from God. The paranoid teen swerved down the urban road, hands so tight on the wheel her knuckles were white.

She nearly ran a red light. She couldn't tell the differences between the shades of gray.

The police and ambulance were already in Chandler's driveway by the time she got there. The ambulance and already loaded, pulling away with its sirens on.

She didn't need to talk to them, didn't need to crumble onto the sidewalk. She already knew.

A sob parted her lips, tears suddenly springing into view to cloud her fuzzy vision. Heather collapsed in the driver's seat, knees pulled up as she heaved.

Kurt Kelly hadn't been her soulmate after all.

—————-

“Do you ever think about her?”

The soft voice called over the bedroom to McNamara.

“Hm?” The cheerleader peaked up from her spot on the carpet. She lowered the nail polish bottle in hand, craning her head up to look at Veronica, who sat on the sheets.

Sawyer didn’t return the glance, her attention instead focused on a picture frame on Heather’s bedside. A photograph of a since broken trio—McNamara, Chandler, Duke. Though, it was clear who Veronica was referring to.

“Oh.” Heather exhaled, swaying onto her feet before taking a seat beside Veronica. “Mm—of course, I miss Heath. .” The energy in her tone faded a tad as she reached across the space to grab the picture frame.

The blonde sighed softly, running a hand across the gray frame. Well. .brown frame, it was wood. As if she could tell. She hadn’t been able to tell since that day. Nearly five months ago or so. God, how dark that time had been. Life hadn’t given the teen a break. Hell, mere weeks after Chandler Kurt & Ram had gone next. Some ‘homosexual suicide pact’. Seemed like the couple both had their secrets. . .

“Me too,” Veronica confessed, gently taking the picture from her grasp.

“Ha,” a small smile appeared on the brunette’s features. “Oh, I remember when you used to wear that sundress!” Veronica pointed towards McNamara. “When was this, freshman year?”

Heather nodded.

“You always look so good in that shade of yellow.” Veronica stopped herself, voice lingering. “Well—I—from what I remember.” She stuttered, looking over at Heather awkwardly. Mac nodded once again in understanding.

“I miss _color_ ,” McNamara whined dramatically at the reminder, slumping onto Veronica’s shoulder. The honors student tensed but pulled her closer.

“Me too,” Sawyer laughed. “Me too.”

“‘Mhm.” Heather looked up at her. “We kinda lost it at the same time though,”

“Yeah.” Veronica croaked. “Ever since J.D.—“ she cleared her throat, shaking her head softly.

“Ah,” she ran a hand through her brown locks, sighing. “Yeah. Same time. Kurt and J.D. were so close apart—. .”

A pause lingered.

“I’m sorry about Kurt. I know you two were soulmates.”

Heather inhaled sharply, averting her gaze. Heat met her cheeks as her lie was brought up. “Uhuh.” She croaked, peering down at her fingertips. It was a lie that fell so unfortunately perfectly into place. She’d simply covered up her lack of color for the first few weeks and then Kurt had passed away. No one questioned her sudden color blindness after that. No questioning. No one needed to know Heather Chandler might’ve been her—

“Soulmate.” She exhaled. “Yeah, he. .” Heather gave a breathless laugh. “Soulmates are weird sometimes.” She made herself look up again, sitting up a bit straighter.

“You wanna know something Duke told me once?” Heather asked.

“Hm?”

“I dunno if it’s true, I think it is, but—“ she reached over the bed, picking up her nail polish. “She said you can have more than one soulmate in your life.”

“How?”

“I dunno. .it makes sense. There are so many people on earth, how can only one person be right for you, y’know?”

“But what about color—“

“I assume it just. .comes back? Maybe? Who knows?” Heather lazily huffed. Without much notice, she plopped down onto her friend, head resting in her lap.

Veronica nodded quietly. She simply looked down at the other, hand coming down to tuck a strand of hair behind Heather’s ear.

“Gimme your hand,” Heather stretched, making a grabby motion. Veronica offered. “I. .think this is. .” Heather squinted at the polish bottle. “Pink. .” She decided, unscrewing the lid.

“Pink.” Veronica dizzily echoed, attention clearly somewhere else. Silence fell between the girls, the quiet hum of Heather’s record player playing a loop of Madonna rumbling in the background.

Heather painted her nails, focus crystal clear until Veronica reached down with her free hand, fingertips trailing through McNamara’s curls. A blush was clear on her features within moments—Veronica didn’t need to see color to notice that. Heather pretended not to notice, finishing up painting her thumb.

“There. .!” She declared with a pleasant grin. She looked up softly, seeking approval. Veronica smiled gently, nodding.

“Ronnie,” Heather giggled. “What is it?” She lowered the polish, sitting up in her lap. “Hello?” She snickered, snapping a few times in her face.

“Hey!” Veronica laughed, pushing away. “Nothing!”

“Don’t mess up your nails!” McNamara yelped, reaching for her palms. The laughter died down between them after a moment as they both calmed down. “C’mon, what is it?” She cooed, giving her hands a squeeze.

“Nothing, I just. .” Veronica bit back a hint of a smile, looking down as she shook her head.

“Ronnie—“

“Do you think the soulmate thing Duke said is real?”

Veronica looked up, tone oddly serious. The eye contact made Heather hesitate, blush not vanishing anytime soon. “Uh,” she sniffled. “Mhm. Maybe.” Heather nodded gently. “It makes sense to me.”

“Yeah. .”

A hand rested on Heather’s cheek, causing her to freeze. Sawyer shifted an inch closer & Heather’s heart nearly burst out of her chest.

“Ronnie, you’re um—gonna mess up your na—“

“Mac,” Veronica laughed softly under her breath. “I don’t care, I’ll fix them later then.” The brunette leaned closer and within a moment she kissed the cheerleader. It was gentle—only lasting a few seconds before pulling back, palm falling to rest on Heather’s shoulder.

The blonde was a mess with butterflies, a feeling she’d so desperately missed.

“Was that okay?” Sawyer whispered.

“Yes—“ Heather murmured, eyes fluttering open. “Of _cou_ —“ her words got lost in her throat in shock, a small squeak parting her lips.

Veronica’s eyes opened at the same moment, the girl all but leaping backward.

“Oh my god!”

A smile pulled at Heather’s mouth, a genuine one that seemed to make her eyes gleam. “Oh my god,” she mirrored with a giggle, hands coming up to cover her lips.

Her bedsheets were white and pink, her dresser brown, and Veronica’s nightgown was blue.

_Blue_.

Color.

“Holy shit!” Veronica laughed, flinging her arms around Heather’s shoulders. McNamara melted into the hug, clinging onto the girl. “You see it too, right? Obviously-“

Heather pulled back for a split moment, cupping Veronica’s cheeks long enough to kiss her properly.

“Yes, I see it too, idiot.” She murmured, pulling back. Her smile wouldn’t go away, looking like an idiot as she went to told Ronnie’s hands.

Heather’s blue eyes swept downwards, her thumb running back and forth across the back of Veronica’s hand.

“Oh, shit.” Heather snickered. “I really thought that nail polish was pink.”

Veronica looked down, an ugly laugh becoming audible. It was far from pastel, or pink for that fact. It was bright neon orange, one that contrasted in every way possible.

“That’s okay,” Veronica mused, reaching for the bottle & picking up Heather’s hand. “I’ll paint yours orange too. We can match.”

Heather could deal with neon orange for a few weeks. Besides, they could paint it pink next time. They could see the colors this time around & McNamara wasn’t ready to give that—or her—up anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> gay rights babey.
> 
> I haven’t written a fic in over a year this SUCKS but I don’t care it’s for fun let me live !!<3


End file.
